In this one my father looked much taller than he really was. He was old, gaunt, and had a mustache. There was something in his mouth but I couldn’t tell what it was, something white, it looked foamy, like something that would happen after you die.
He looked a bit like Donald Sutherland in Day of the Locust but older.
We were in a small room. There was a table there which kept us apart as we were standing and circling around it. I was trying to tell him how it felt to be beaten by him.
“I was just a kid!” I yelled at him.
He said nothing but moved around the table towards me. He got very close and he was angry. It seemed like he wanted to hurt me. I felt scared again. He moved closer, looked down towards me, and I woke up.